Venezia!

Can't wait to explore Venice today!

More posts to come...

Florence Frenzy

Yesterday involved a 5 hour drive from Rome to Florence, for which I was very grateful and took full advantage of. I.e., nap.

Wen we got to Florence, we walked around the city for a bit and wear given an hour of free time during which I explored the Medici palace and Florence's "Golden Bridge." 

The city is beautiful, and it seems to have a similar vibe to Tours. We stopped at Piazza Michelangelo on the way to Florence for a beautiful bird's-eye view, and we had a pretty good dinner at the hotel. 

I tried some excellent wine Dr.Durham'd purchased. Cant wait to try more!

Eat, Love, Rome.

Yesterday, I had the most glorious day.

It was our one day to spend time exploring Rome, and although I chickened out of climbing to the top of the dome at St. Peter's Basilica, I had a terrific day nonetheless.

My plan was this: sneak out of the hotel between groups so I could explore Rome on my own. unfortunately, I ran into our tour manager while I was waiting in the lobby for the first group to leave, and I had no choice but to leave with her to see the Spanish Steps.

I could not've planned it better! I'd taken a walk with the two conductors on the trip to go to the ATM two evenings beforehand and felt somewhat familiar with our section of Rome. Yesterday morning, I ended up escorting one of the guys on the trip to the metro station because he'd missed the group bound for St Peters. From there, I snuck to the grocery store--Simply Market, the same chain I used to  shop at in Paris!!!!!!--to buy (you guessed it!) Camembert and bread for lunch.

I found my beloved individually wrapped Camembert bites immediately, in addition to the super yummy granola and  Kinder bars (nearly emptied the shelves, it felt like), but I felt completely lost en it came tie to buy bread. I wasn't sure what the Italian equivalent to baguette was, so I waited and watched a lady order pizza crust at the deli counter. I figured I'd follow her example, and even thought I knew no Italian in their right mind would eat Camembert with pizza crust, I knew that somewhere, some Italian woman was enjoying the same crust so I decided to give it a go. I managed to order a quarter crust and some olives 1 euro worth) from the deli man, and rarely have I felt more proud!

My loot:

After waiting in line at the register for what seemed to be forever--they were severely understaffed--I made it back to the hotel with just enough time to store my purchases in the room before meeting the rest of eye group at 10 to leave for the Spanish Steps.

Did you know that the Spanish Steps aren't actually Spanish? (Leave it to translation for such an almost predictable and certainly unfortunate misunderstanding.) According to Laura, the tour manager, the piazza beneath the steps was Spanish territory, while the church and surrounding area at the top of the steps was French(!) territory. The Pope decided he'd had enough of their fighting, so he built the steps between the two territories that would conveniently lead to the Vatican. Cool, n'est pas?

I also had a major girl moment and bought a magnet with a picture of Audrey Hepburn at theSpanish Steps from her terrific film Roman Holiday AT the Spanish steps! OMG YAY doesn't begin to describe how excited I am to put it on my fridge..,

ALSO, turns out Keats once lived at the base of the Steps, and I couldn't resist visiting the museum! Not only was the girl working in the bookstore American who taught English in Rome after graduating college, but the girl living upstairs in the museum itself--Taryn--was from Dublin!!! She'd studied in Rome in college (they were both literature majors!) and decided to stay to better her Italian! It was super cool getting to talk with them!

Anywho, there was a huge collection of first edition Shelley and Keats in the museum, as well as some Byron and Oscar Wilde! (Apparently Wilde once lived in Rome, too, and used to send mail from the steps! It was pretty neat having seen his grave in Paris and studied at Magdalen, his alma mater.) Also, while I was in Keats's bedroom, I got mega chills on the back of my neck while looking at his death mask, only to later find out that he ACTUALLY DIED IN THAT ROOM!!!!! Who knows?! Maybe I have a new friend?

Did I mention they had a lock of Milton's hair?!

Yes, the same one--or rather, the other half--of the lock I'd seen at Milton's house. Apparently Shelley'd divided up the lock and mixed one half with his wife's hair. This was the half on display at Keats's house.

I nearly died.

Afterwards, I roamed around what I thought might've been Elizabeth Gilbert's street during her stint in Rome. And I ate my delicious lunch at one of the entrances to the original walls of Ancient Rome. It was pally special knowing that I was walking where those had walked 3,000+ years ago as they made their way into the western world.

From there I stopped by the Augusteum from EPL, and although Gilbert says its one of the most quiet places in Rome, it looked like a pile of ruins that had been allowed to deteriorate. I wasn't super impressed but it was still worth seeing.

What WAS super exciting, though, was going to Rome's cat haven! Yes!!! CAT HAVEN! Turns t, there are a bunch of ferrule cats that live at the square where Julius Caesar was murdered! Ironic yes? I would've thought they would have stayed away! Anyway, there all of these cats just lounging around these ruins, though they stayed away from they stayed away from the temples. They were also filming a documentary about the haven, and had signs posted that said , "come visit the cats!"

It was all I could do to not scoop one of them up and take them home! I also at lemon gelato at Gilbert's main gelato chain, bought some souvenir coffee at her cafe!

Walking to the Vatican was beautiful, but I was surprised with the number of seemingly illegal merchants selling any number of junky, touristy souvenirs virtually on the steps of one of Christianity'smostimportant churches.

The line to enter St. Peters wrapped twice--once, both ways---around the inside of the Vatican colonnade, but we eventually made it inside....and I was not impressed. It was grand, sure, but in a very flamboyant, non-Versailles sort of way. The giant 3D, gold sculpture of Peter and the heavenly host behind the high altar was so tacky, I thought, and the marbled dome, as beautiful as it was,was nothing compared to the arches of Canterbury or the flying buttresses of Notre Dame.

Singing at the Vatican felt like a complete blur. We had no wait in a chapel in the left part of the nave until vespers ended and had to RUSH to the choir loft--or, ya know, the 5 pews crammed together behind the organ, which itself was rammed off to the side. (It was clear that St. Peter's didn't place music at the forefront of its concerns. The organist had to keep playing pitches to keep the priest in tune...) 

Back to rushing. W we so rushed, we started singing the first anthem before we were even seated in the choir pews. In short, our performance was mediocre, but the best part of the service was interacting with the clergy. The presiding priest recommend us directly, in English, at the beginning of the service AND he directed the end of his homily to us. He encouraged us to live our lives as an adventure with Christ and to look to him for the adventure. It was really special to be spoken to directly by someone of such prominence. My favorite part, though, was the transfiguration.

-----------

During my Milton class, we studied the transfiguration, the moment during which the priest blesses the  communion, as a larger metaphor for the relationship between a text and its meaning. We also learned the historical significance of the transfiguration, for while Catholics believe the bread/wine literally becomes the blood/body of Christ, Calvinists and Lutherans believe that it's merely a symbol and not the actual thing itself. Knowing this significance of the transfiguration and watching this supposed transformation AT THE VATICAN still gives me chills. (I also couldn't help but daydream, 'What would Milton say if he saw me here?', for he vehemently hated the Catholics...)

We ended the evening with a few bottles of wine sitting in the hotel lobby and enjoying each others company.

What a great day!

Viva la Roma

Ya'll, I love Rome.

Yesterday, we walked through five thousand years of history, seeing the colosseum, the Ancient Roman ruins, the place where Caesar was cremated and where Marc Antony would've delivered his famous speech had, ya know, Shakespeare lived a few thousand years earlier.

Today--oh, today!--we strolled through the Vatican museums and although we only saw the painting exhibit, it was fascinating to literally live art history, culminating at a Raphael exhibit.

Then, the Sistine Chapel. The Sistine Chapel! THE SISTINE CHAPEL!!! (Nope, still doesn't feel real...) Im going to geek out for a moment and admit that I nearly cried at seeing The Creation in person (did you know there's a Creation-of-Eve just above that of Adam?!) in all of its restored, brilliant perfection. It was as if, through his art 500 years later, Michelangelo was reaching out to us, present mankind, and touching our souls and breathing into us the breath of life and of appreciation for divine-like talent, as God so does with Adam in the creation. Besides the Sistine Chapel's role as the election-site for the papacy, it is truly a source of divine inspiration, drawing man's gaze forever to the heavens.

We also visited the Trevi Fountain (swarming with tourists claiming their good luck penny toss), after which I found the most impressive apartment courtyard, stopped in Piaza Novona, and the Pantheon (RAPHAEL IS BURIED THERE!!!), where we sang one of our more impressive intro pieces. It was amazing singing in an architectural phenomenon over 2,000 years old and hearing our voices soar to the gods as the pagans' would have done so many years ago.

Speaking of holy, I found the most incredible coffee shop today. It was just around the corner from the pantheon, and I think it just might be the cafe Liz Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love and subject of one of my all-time favorite movies, frequented for an espresso during her time in Rome! (I found the text of EPL online tonight, and after skimming through it, I must agree with my friend Julie that Liz is entirely too whiney. Many of the other people on the trip are getting whiney, too: my feet hurt, it's so smelly!, this isn't sanitary, do they have real bathrooms here?, I like SUVs better... People, get over yourselves. It's Europe(!) and if you're too blind to whiteness it's true magic, then fine. Just don't ruin the pixie dust for the rest of us.)

Anyway, I treated myself to the most gloriously bitter and froth-topped espresso a burgeoning coffee connoisseur could hope for. Props, again, to Julie for opening my eyes to the wonders of the cocoa bean.

  

(So far, this whole iPad-picture thing is working out, n'est pas?)

We had a marvelous 3 course dinner of penne in a meat sauce, procutto and pork in a white wine sauce and sautéed potatoes, with tiramisu for dessert (yum!) and headed to the church for the concert.

Oh my, the church. No, it wasn't extravagant like the Francescan church yesterday or supremely beautiful like Notre Dame, BUT St. Catherine was buried there, as well as 4 popes! In addition, two popes were elected there because the church is older than St. Peter's and was used for the papal elections before the Sistine Chapel was a twinkle in Michaelangelo's talented eye. So yeah....I sang within feet of where Catherine is buried. Oh, and get this! The priest on duty saw me drooling over the high choir and he LET ME IN!!! That's right! He let me in (didn't even have to sneak!) the high choir in one of the oldest and most prestigious churches in Rome. (Ill have to get back to you with a name. magedelena something.) 

The concert was frankly splendid, with every seat filled. Judging by the faces in the front, they absolutely enjoyed the concert, and it was nice being able to give back to a city after it has already given so much to us in the two short days.

Roaming Ancient Rome

Thanks to two Zzzquils and a fuzzy travel pillow, I slept like a baby on the plane, allowing me to fully enjoy my first day in Rome!

We started the day at 12:30 with a drive into the city, a quick stop for gelato near the colosseum, followed by a colosseum tour and walk through the Roman Forum. We stopped at the first franciscan church in Rome--it was stunning!--and a drive through St. Peter's Square en route to the hotel.

After a delicious (and ungodly noisy) dinner of yummy pizza and bruschetta, I took a walk with the choral directors in pursuit of an ATM in the now dark Rome.

Although my director described the area as the"ghetto," not to be mistake for the actual, Roman Jewish Ghetto, I found it to be remarkably similar to my corner of Paris! Theres even a Simply Market! (You know where Im going first thing tomorrow!) It had the same edgy vibe, the same windy streets, the same trash piles, the same halal grocers.

So here's to a wonderfully historic and beautiful city, ghetto or not, for Rome seems to have wiggled it's way into my heart.

Bienvenue a Frankfurt

Im here. In Europe.

Where scarves are an everyday accessory and where there is no shortage of capri-clad, satchel-bearing men.

Where the array of languages spoken--German, FRENCH, Spanish, Italian, Chinese--wraps around you in a disorienting blanket with the promise of adventure.

I'm home.

I return to writing--a commencement of words--after a commencement of my own. Four days ago, I graduated Magna Cum Laude from Clemson University as a bright-eyed alumna ready to take on the world.

What better way to begin than with a trip to Italy?

Yes, Italy. (Don't worry, Paris. It won't be long before we see each other again.)

I'm embarking on this voyage as a member of CU Singers, Clemson's audition mixed ensemble. We're scheduled to sing at both St. Peter's Basilica in Rome(!)--maybe the Cardinal Who caught me sneaking a picture of him during a mass at Notre Dame will finally forgive me (guess who I inherited my photography mischief from???)--and at St. Marks in Venice(!!!!). 

I know. Be jealous.

But for now, Im sitting here in Frankfurt (last time I was here, I was waiting to board for ma chere Paris) eyeing a photographer with a tripod in his book bag's mesh cup holder and sitting next to two Chinese women. It seems that I'm on the threshold between to lives: the first as a Clemson student and returning traveler to Europe (the phrase travel addict or even road warrior comes to mind), the second as a future expat in Asia. 

Yes, Asia.

By this point, Im sure its no surprise that I love to travel, and what better way to begin my new post-college life than abroad? Only this time in a place where I know little of the culture and none of the language. Sounds like a growing experience to me!

And so I will spend the next year as an Assistant Language Teacher with the Japanese Exchange Teaching (JET) Program. I've not been formally placed in a location, but I specifically requested to live in Kochi, located on Shikoku island. 

Terrifying? Yes. 

Overwhelming? Yes. 

An unparalleled opportunity?

Absolutely.

With this I begin my new life as an alumna of Clemson and as a new student at the university of life. 

Ciao!

But in the Meantime....

I miss you!!!

Back on the Grid

Dear Readers,

I'm so sorry I haven't posted in the last two weeks! Between a four day excursion to Wales, Stratford Upon Avon, a cold, a paper, and a project, I feel like I've barely had time to sleep, much less blog!

Anyways, in order to make up for it, here's a sneak preview of exciting posts to come!

More posts are on their way! Promise!

Cheers from Oxford,

Meredith

A Dreaming Spires Sunrise

The very large majority of this week was consumed with writing a paper on castration and economics in The Merchant of Venice. *cringe. I know. It wasn’t what I’d initially planned to write about….it just kind of happened. Anyways, the paper is titled “The Empty Sac: Socioeconomic Infertility in William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice,” and I’m pretty proud of it!

By the way, did you know that the sun rises in Oxford at 4:30 AM, welcomed by a chorus of what can only be described as croaking from the deer?

Yeah, I didn’t know that either.

As you might imagine, I was up pretty late (early?) working on the paper this morning, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. It literally felt like I was having a sleepover (an all-night-over?) with those same generations of scholars before me, including Keving Niehaus (Duckenfield 2010), who saw his fair share of Oxford sunrises.

Yet while I was a little sleepy this morning (I managed to get exactly 1 REM cycle of sleep, which was perfect! I woke up on my own & felt refreshed, vs. other all-nighters when you feel like death!), I was really glad to have stayed up so late. I watched the sunrise over the spires of Oxford and see the sun’s first rays through the willows in Deer Park. Watching this historic town wake up through my window was an entirely mystical experience and one I will never forget.

Tutorials followed this afternoon. I was really nervous, but once I started to read my paper aloud, my nerves melted away. Professor Johnson seemed pleased with the paper & pointed out what he really liked and what he thought I could improve for next time (he disagreed with my final conclusion that Shakespeare used MoV to argue for a more mercantile-based rather than barter-based system of trade), but I think he was pleased with the paper itself.

I was relieved to find that tutorials were much more laid-back than I was anticipating. (He ate an orange while I read my paper and apparently ate a sandwich in a later tutorial!) While I understand that the informality might be to ease our nerves at attending OXFORD TUTORIALS, I think it is making me even more nervous because it’s so far removed from my expectations of something akin to grueling office hour sessions.

Tonight we’re going to a graduate student party(?) at the MCR (Masters Common Room) Bar to celebrate a successful first round of tutorials. Apparently it’s a student-run bar with £1.50 pints! I can’t wait to meet some ‘real’ Oxford/Magdalen College students! Who knows?! Maybe they’ll have some advice about applying here for graduate school! ;)

Dreaming Spires of Oxford from my bedroom window!

O Happy Day!

Wednesday marked our second weekly excursion. The destination(s) this week? Jane Austen’s house in Chawton and burial place in Winchester!

Chawton is the post-card perfect little town, with winding narrow streets, thatched-roof cottages, and rolling green farmlands. (I nearly died upon seeing some of the cottages. On a scale of 1 to quaint, they put the Martha’s Vineyard vacation homes to shame!)

Chawton Cottages: when can I move in?

We started the excursion at the Chawton Library at Jane Austen’s brother’s former house. While the house was grand, my favorite part was seeing—and sitting at!—the original dining room table, where Jane would’ve eaten while visiting her brother. (Judging by the looks on some of the Austenist’s faces, this was a really emotional moment for them. I can’t wait for that overwhelming sense of connection when we visit Stratford-Upon-Avon in 2 weeks!!!!!)

On the way to Jane Austen’s house, I fed a horse!!! There were two black and one black horses standing at the edge of the farm grazing in the shade. (I didn’t realize just how MASSIVE horses are! I mean, I barely came up to their noses!!!) I just happened to be munching on an apple & decided to feed it to the brown horse we later dubbed ‘Duke.’ In a whirlwind of panic, excitement, and muted squeals, I held my half-eaten apple on my overly-flattened hand for fear of my fingers being munched with the apple(!), when Duke walked over, sniffed my hand, and gobbled the apple in one bite!

:D

It was one of those moments when you realize the ferocious beauty of nature and how destructively violent, yet gentle and calm, she can be. (I now have a new understanding of riding accidents you read about in (Victorian) novels…Duke could’ve easily squished me with one hoof!) Yet as I stroked the baby-soft skin on his nose (snout?), I was dumbfounded at how gentle he was. It really was a priceless moment. So thank you, Duke, for not squishing me in exchange for the apple. I hope you enjoyed it. I know I did!

Duke!

 Jane Austen’s house followed my date with Duke, and while the house was again beautiful, I was disappointed at how few of Jane Austen’s pieces they had at the museum. They did have her quilt, lace collar, and cross-stitch sampler (all of which she’d made!), in addition to her writing table, shawl, and riding jacket. In the kitchen, they’d set up “Write-with-a-Quill!” and “Make-a-Lavender-Sachet-like-Jane-Austen!” craft stations for the kids, both of which I enjoyed thoroughly. (More so with the lavender. Good thing they had a donation jar to help with replenishing the supplies…)

Me in front of Jane Austen's House

I thoroughly enjoyed the morning at Chawton, but the highlight of the day was to come in Winchester!

Jane is buried at Winchester Cathedral, but once we saw her grave, many of us were simply too tired to tour the rest of the church. I’d grabbed a Winchester map from a tourist center en route to the cathedral, so we left in pursuit of King Arthur’s round table!

The table was on the other end of the small town of Winchester, which reminds me a lot of Cantebury. It’s a very quaint medieval village, and it was decorated for the Olympic Torch Relay with banners, streamers, and makeshift statues strewn about the city.

The Round Table was SO NEAT! First of all, there are super old castle ruins beneath the medieval Great Hall, which means they’re probably at least 1,000 years old. The Round Table was suspended beneath a stained glass window & was more grand than The HUGE table was divided into 25 “slices,” each labeled with the name of a knight. King Arthur’s place at the table was adorned with an elaborate of him sitting in what looked something like the coronation chair.

Epic is the only word I can think to describe the table. Not only was the table regal, but the stories of the men who once sat around that table—whether they actually were the Arthurian knights we know today—were truly epic, war-torn, and least of all, awe-inspiring.

Once I’d gotten over the initial shock at seeing the table, I turned around and BAM! On the opposite wall of the Great Hall were A) Middle Earth-worthy metal doors and B) a HUGE family tree (?) of the English Monarchs since the mid 1200’s. It covered the ENTIRE wall. And was intricately painted, with scrolls, leaves, calligraphy, etc. 

I got chills. Big Time. (As they say in England, “It was really excellent!”) Definitely one of my favorite things I’ve seen here so far.

We had about 30 minutes before we were supposed to meet at the bus, so we made our way down to a SUPER cute patisserie/café I’d seen on the way in. On the way, we ran into the Olympic torch! We’d seen it being lit the previous morning in Oxford, and while the newly-lit torch had just taken off from Winchester, we got to hold and take pictures with the previous runner! (Apparently he’s a famous American athlete of some sort, but none of us could place him.) It was really neat being THAT close to a part of global history. London 2012, baby! (Did I mention that I ran part of the Olympic Marathon course during the 10K?!)

No caption needed.

The café was really relaxing after a day of so much sight-seeing. Our waitress reminded me SO much of my female celebrity crush, Carrie Mulligan, from P&P, An Education, Never Let Me Go, etc. She was so nice, and talking with her made me want to get a pixie haircut right then and there, but I abstained. I ordered an espresso (my first ever!) and some gourmet truffles they had in the window, and while she forgot to charge/give me the truffles in our haste to make the bus, the espresso hit the spot. It was much bitter than I’d anticipated, but the flavor of the bean was perfect. Truth be told, I ended up taking half of the espresso shot like a real shot, but I definitely can’t wait til my next espresso!

As can be expected, I was WIRED for about 20 minutes on the bus until I dozed off on the ride home.

The Patisserie where we enjoyed coffee and desserts

To top off the perfect sightseeing day with friends, we all met to go out to Open Mic Night at the Cape of Good Hope, one of the bars near Magdalen College. It has a really good atmosphere and a heated terrace out back, not to mention a trap door behind the bar that leads to the beer fridge!)

It was one of the most enjoyable nights I’ve had in months, and after the stress of trying to develop a routine at Oxford, it was nice just to relax and have fun with new friends. (There’s a group of Clemson business students here as an alternative to the Academic Program, and while I was more than skeptical of the group at first—I was afraid and resentful that they’d tarnish our Duckenfield experience—I was completely wrong. While they do tend to be a bit more sociable than some of the other students in the Academic Program, its nice to have a bit of the Clemson family here at Oxford, especially with so many people from Michigan around! ;) (Just kidding, I love my 20-something new Michigan friends!)

Like I said, it was the first truly amazing night in a really long time.

It’s good to be back.

At the Cape of Good Hope Garden Terrace

Croquet Champs

So guess what I did today? Played croquet :)

We played on the lawn in front of New Building (for the only two things you can do on the lawn are sit and play croquet) and the rain held off just long enough for us to enjoy a quick match before champagne in the cloisters, lecture, and high table.

It was so much fun! I’d never played before, and while the game felt a bit like miniature golf, the Oxford setting made it much more dignified. (Note to self: remember to bring parasol on my next trip to Oxford.) With everyone dressed in their formal attire—the gals in their dresses and the guys in their khakis and sports jackets—it felt like I was at a British Augusta National.

Luckily, my putting skills came in handy & while I’m not ready for the LOCA (Ladies Pro Croquet Association), my game was definitely better than some of the boys.’ (Props to my dad for my mad golf/croquet skills.)

(As a golf side note, I’ve met a friend who offered—multiple times—to take me to Augusta in the Spring(!), and while it’s still more than half a year away, it’s still a more-than-exciting prospect for the present….)

Regardless, I had a lovely evening playing croquet with my new friends on the lawns at Oxford.

"Nothing quite as exhilarating as a match of croquet
followed by champagne, eh good chap?"

On a completely different note, I have an amazing new fun fact to tell! Yesterday after the race, I was chilled to the bone, so I decided to stop in for a “cuppa” at the Twinings store on Fleet Street. (They have an open tea bar, where you can try any one of their tea varietiesl I sipped a strawberry mango tea…mmm!) According to Julie (she always seems to know the coolest tid-bits of info!), the tea for the Boston Tea Party was shipped from that very store!!!

:O

I know, right? Wish I had Red Sox shirt with me…THAT would be a picture! I didn’t buy any tea at the store when I was there, so I need to go back the next time I’m in London for some souvenir tea!

Thus, it was a very regal 24 hours, between Twinings tea, croquet on the lawn, champagne in the cloisters, and high table dinner.

Twinings Tea Shop on Fleet Street

British London 10K

From my fundraising website at http://www.justgiving.com/medotoole:

"In June 2011, I was fortunate enough to run a 10K in Paris while studying abroad. I had never run a full 10K before, but I beat my PR 5K time during the first half of the race, and again on the second leg.

I have never been more proud of myself in my whole life, and from the moment I crossed the starting line, I was hooked. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the other runners--and yes, the French can be very nice people--and the comradery among everyone present was awe-inspiring.

Now, just over a year later, I aspire to run another 10K on my second study abroad trip to London.  On the eve of the 2012 Olympics, it is my hope to pound the pavement--or should I say cobblestones!--in another of the world's largest and oldest cities. After my running experience in Paris, I felt a true sense of 'community' with those who lived and worked in my arrondissement. Although I will be living in and studying at Oxford(!) and not directly in London, I still expect to find a connection with the 25,000 other runners at the race in sharing a true "local" experience. For more information on the British London 10K, please see their website at: http://www.thebritish10klondon.co.uk.  Be prepared to be (very) jealous; the race route is unparalleled for its famous sites.

In addition, running the British London 10K will give me an opportunity to give back to the greater London community. STUBS, the organization for which I am fundraising, gives back to service men and women injured in Afghanistan by sponsoring their attendance at various sporting events. Athleticism is an enriching and rewarding part of my life, and sharing this joy with some of the UK's finest is a very worthy cause."

Written over a month ago, this passage explains my experience running in Paris last summer and my enthusiasm at the prospect of running in London.

Today, that dream became a reality.

This morning, I joined 30,000(!!!!!) other runners on the streets of London to raise money for over 35 different charity organizations. I'll have to admit that the crowd was, at time, a little overwhelming (the professional runners finished the race before I even started!), but I also felt that there was a sense of camaraderie among the runners. I actually met a woman from the States who's mother lives in Myrtle Beach! What a small world... 

I also met some lovely British runners. As it turns out, many of the people on the 6:10 bus from Oxford to London were also running the race. It was really neat to see how smaller communities join together to take part in a large event, such as this race. There were also many running teams who flew in from all over the world to participate in the race. 

The event was somewhat poorly organized--they almost ran out of metals!--and we waited in line for over an hour to start the race. (For future events, I wish Nike would consider start waves, where you start with other people in your timing bracket.) Nevertheless, the London scenery made up for the confusion. Big Ben, Parliament, the London Eye, Westminster, Whitehall, Trafalgar Square, Marble Arch, and the Thames provided a first-class backdrop for a race, and although it was 60 degrees and raining virtually the whole time, I had a great run.

I now feel like I know my way around at least one corner (albeit a very important corner!) of London, and I feel as if I've built some history with the city. I'm not just another tourist. In running for STUBS, I really do feel as if I was able to give back to the greater London community. It made me proud to run for a great cause, vs. running purely for self-interest. Grant it, fund-raising wasn't something I was initially prepared for, but I was SUPER fortunate that my allergist--Dr. Mark Schecker of Coastal Carolina Allergy--agreed to sponsor me for the race. 

Now that I've run both for an organization and as an individual runner, running for charity adds a whole new dimension to the race. One of the teams supported Saudi Arabian Women's Rights. Another team was to help prevent male suicide. It was eye-opening to see the variety of organizations represented at the race, in addition to other runners' personal connections with the charities. There were many Alzheimer's signs that read "Running for Nana. We miss you." and many runners with a picture of a cancer patient and a message attached to the back of their shirt. Thinking about these patients, the wounded STUBS soldiers, and special olympics athletes (one of the other charities) during the race made me all the more grateful A) for my good health and general well-being B) being able to physically participate in the race. There was one man participating in the race who walked the whole thing leaning on a cane. There were several other autistic runners, as well as those who weren't in the best physical condition. Seeing those others on the course was an inspiration to not only keep running but to never give up. If they don't have an excuse to quit, I don't either. (Not that I was looking for one, but still. A reality check never hurts.)

So, thank you to Dr. Schecker and STUBS for helping me become a part of this great event. Who knows where I will run next! Regardless, I am now a 2x international runner!

I did it!

There's No Place Like London...or Milton

I took a day trip to London on Saturday, 7 June, the day before I was to run the British 10K.

Turns out there was no race exposition like I originally thought, but there was a festival hosted by Nike...only I didn't find out about it until too late.

O well. Didn't need Nike marketing junk anyways!

Regardless of missing the festival, I saw the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace (I was up against the barricade at one of the gate entrances, so I got a close-up view of the band!), ate lunch in St. James's Park, visited Westminster Abbey (naturally, the High Quire was my favorite part. It made me appreciate--and miss!--my RSCM days), found the baggage drop-off for the race, walked to St. Paul's (where I sang a bit from Mary Poppins's "Feed the Birds"), and visited Milton's birthplace and place of burial.

At Buckingham after watching the changing of the guards.

My High Quire picture. Makes me miss my RSCM days!

At Parliament Square

St Paul's! Toppins a bag, anyone?

In front of Milton's birthplace on Bread St.

Yes, that's right. Milton. You know, the one I've been obsessing over for about a year now? You know, the Paradise Lost guy? Yeah, him. (Oh, and I also saw where Charles I was beheaded--for which Milton was a big, even huge, advocate--at Whitehall Palace.)

Needless to say, it was a very emotional moment, seeing Milton's statue in St Giles-without-Cripplegate  (weird name for a church, huh?), holding a copy of none other than Paradise Lost. (It's good to know someone else looks after Milton, too...)

I'm not sure I've ever been so fascinated--or more intrigued--by another author. Milton wrote Paradise Lost blind (he dictated it to one of his daughters), not to mention that it is one of the most epic works--and yes, I do mean epic...muse and all--of all time. I love the ways he plays with language and gets readers to look at his work vertically and horizontally. I love how sly he is. How clever. How ingenious. (It also helps that I had a killer professor for my Milton class. Wish I could study under him for a Ph. D...)

Frankly, Milton is my literary idol, and seeing his statue standing there in front of me still gives me chills. I must've spent over an hour in that church, photographing his statue and his burial spot in the nave.

I left a piece of my heart beneath that London church floor.

The church was once just outside the London city walls and is very old. Now there is a BEAUTIFUL residential courtyard with the old London wall remains, in addition to a girl's school, that surround the church. Since there is no room to add Sunday school rooms or anything of the sort, they hold Sunday school in the side aisles (there was a mock igloo and reading loft) and use the would-be narthex for storage. In there other aisle is a small church library and gift shop comprised of mostly pamphlets. Needless to say, it is a very small church, but I think Milton would've been happy spending his days there. It felt homey, like it had a sense of warmth and unity about it. I also like to think that he would've liked how the parish adapted the old church to fit its new needs, rather than sticking to more traditional methods of running a church.

St Giles-without-Cripplegate: Milton's burial place

Some very esoteric group was rehearsing for their evening concert while I was there, but their sound guy took a picture of me with Milton. We'll have to see how it turned out, but it's possible I've found my photo to be immortalized in the Holmes basement.

Across whatever time and space boundaries may exist, I think Milton and I are kindred spirits of a teacher eager to teach (his audience anyways) and a devout pupil eager to learn. I ate my dinner of baguette, croissant, and the last of my Paris camembert outside of the church to savor my last bit of Milton time. Yet I feel sure we will meet again, for all I have to do is open one of his books, and it will be as if I never left St. Giles.

Milton and Me
"Of man's first disobedience and the fruit of that forbidden tree..."